


Cool

by faulting



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Based on a song, Bottom Louis, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossdressing, Drugs, Feminine Louis, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:04:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faulting/pseuds/faulting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Perhaps he nearly falls when he gets up the last of it, body shaking as Harry catches him with a quiet chuckle. Maybe he couldn't handle it, but it's the last of their batch until Wednesday and he was going to make it count. He pushes the sunglasses back up his nose and hiccups once again. Like he had expected, Harry laughs like he does every single time. Ever since the first time that he had taken up his first line, the hiccuping was a side effect and the boy always seemed to laugh after he did.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Finally, when he gets himself composed, he braces his hand against the sink, fingers dipping into the sides before he stands on top of Harry's trainers and brushes their noses together. Their lips are inches away from touching, breaths' hot and mingling with one another.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"You look so cool," Louis mumbles softly.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"I know," Harry says back, then connect their lips to one another's in a rough kiss.<i></i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Louis is infatuated with the idea of drugs and chaos. Harry loves his boyfriend and drugs, as well. They're probably not a good duo together, but neither were any of the famous couples that left their marks on the world.</i>
  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cool

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I know that next to no one is going to read this and if you are, you're probably just clicking it because the tag "Bottom!Louis" was thrown into the mess (there is smut, calm down) but I still wanted to get this finished and posted before I drove myself crazy.
> 
> Obviously, there needs to be a link to the amazing video by The 1975 called "Robbers" that this fic is based off of [so here you go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iyy3YOpxL2k) and I'd just like to point out while there's a thousand fics based off of that video, they're all basically alike so don't go leaving a comment like "There's already a fic like dis lol xD" on the bottom of this or it'll be deleted because I KNOW.
> 
> So, uh, yeah. Enjoy.

 

**_Part One_ **

_"_ _The_ _sun_ _loved_ _the_ _moon_ _so_ _much_ _,_ _he_ _died_ _every_ _night_ _to_ _let_ _him_ _breathe_ _."_

Those were the words that Louis wrote on Harry's hand each and every single day, the marks of his pen writing over the previous words that the other boy had been too lazy to bother to wash off before falling asleep. Of course, the quote had been changed to fit their situation instead of moon being a female, but he still was infatuated with the idea of it.

The bags underneath his eyes reveal that he hasn't had a proper sleep in days, and the dirtiness and frizziness of his hair tell the public something else. He's dressed in an old bandeau he had gotten from the Salvation Army that is loose on his lithe body now and his fingers are tracing across the quote that he had marked onto his own hand that day. It was rare that the sloppy handwriting that he claimed as his own made its way onto his tanned skin, but some days he simply needed a boost.

He's just done a line on the porcelain bowl in the bathrooms of a quaint little diner off highway seventy-five and it's affecting him rather hard, causing him to bump lightly into some overweight man with a Packers jersey who had been coming into the loo. Louis mumbles out an apology and picks up the napkin he had taken into the area before exiting, rubbing a little bit under his nose with a quiet sniffle. Seconds later, he nearly falls into an empty booth.

It's a pure miracle that he ends up getting into the booth that he was sitting in, flopping unceremoniously onto the plush red seats with a quiet giggle. He looks up at the figure across from him with glassy eyes, fishing the napkin from the back pocket of his jeans and sliding it towards the other person with a crooked smile.

He's fiddling with the dip in the skinny fabric of his top, playing with the flowers surrounding it with a shy look as the napkin was opened. A moment passes and their food sits untouched in front them before there's a quiet laugh and the figure is leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. His thin bottom lip gets tucked in between his teeth as the person sits back down and folds the napkin back up, placing it into the pocket of their leather jacket.

"You look gorgeous, lovey," Harry smiles, reaching across the table to take one of his small hands into his own. "Can you eat something?"

Louis rolls his eyes and uses his idle hand to pick up the bottle of Corona that he had snuck in with an old fur coat that was draped up behind him. He shakes his head slowly while wrapping his lips around the rim of the bottle, downing most of the liquid that he hadn't already drank. It's overwhelming and he shuts his eyes for all but a moment, letting out a quiet hiccup afterwards that causes Harry to chuckle across from him.

The left strap of his bandeau had slipped down just the slightest and he dips his head down to bite on the black bandana wrapped around his neck. He looked down at Harry's hand, moving a hand forward to poke at the words that he had wrote. It was fading already and looked like practically nothing, especially since there were the same sentences from the day later still patching onto his pale skin.

"We're twins. Look at that," Louis laughs.

Harry blinks slower than normal. "We'd be even more like twins if you'd eat," he says.

A moment passes and finally, Louis rolls his eyes. He moves their hands away from each other and plucks the maraschino cherry out of the milkshake that just so happened to be Harry's. He pops it into his mouth and throws the stem somewhere in the seats across from them. It's sour, he's never really enjoyed the taste that cherries give off, but the food in front of him makes him nearly want to vomit.

The boy across from him sighs and leans down to rest his chin into the palm of his hand. There's a pair of atrocious sunglasses perched onto the bridge of his nose that he had stolen from a nearby corner store that almost takes up the whole remainder of his face. He tucks a piece of his wild hair behind his ear and Louis scoffs.

"I'm 20 and I weigh 104 lbs, I'm not going to die if I skip one meal," he says before lunging forward and grabbing the sunglasses away from Harry's nose.

They're incredibly big on his face, making how they looked on Harry's seem utterly dwarfed. He gives out a ridiculous pose and they both start cracking up, earning the attention of the elderly black couple that were the only other people in the diner. They frown and Louis raises his hands to make a finger gun in their direction, letting tiny "pew, pew" noises to fall from his mouth and laughing at their reaction before Harry was slapping his hands down.

A piece of his hair was sticking up in the air and the high of the cocaine was just settling in. He has to stop giggling along with Harry for a moment and brace himself up on the table. It's always been harsh whenever he did too much in one day, but instead of trying to calm down the rush in his veins, he picked up the bottle of beer once more and took another short swig of it, legs kicking amongst themselves underneath the table.

"Told you that you need to eat something," Harry mumbles.

Louis frowns. "It's not that. I did a line in the toilets, babe," he sighs and runs his hands over his face.

"D'you have any more?" the boy asks with a dopey smile.

"Why?" Louis smirks as he digs underneath the bandeau to pull out a small baggie of the powerdy substance. The couple are eyeing him again and he flips the bird in their direction, then looks back towards the boy in front of him, "you want some?"

He shoots up like lightning from the other side of the booth, walking over to where Louis was standing and watching him move. He gestures for him to stand up and he hesitates before doing so, squealing loudly when he's swept off of his feet and carried towards the direction of the toilets. He's laughing again and the sunglasses are slipping down his pert nose as he tilts his head back. The couple and a variation of diner workers watched them disappear and the man who had entered when Louis left finally came out.

When he's sat down, Harry is already snatching the baggie away from his fingers and motioning for him to get out the credit card that he knew he always kept in his shoe. Louis rolls his eyes and bends down -- probably more seductively than needed when he was high and couldn't see straight -- picking out the American Express card from the side of his boots. He stands back up and hands it to Harry.

"Smells like shit in here," Harry mutters under his breath as he dumps a little bit of the powder onto the same bar that Louis took his line from.

"C'mon before someone walks in," Louis says back.

There's a halfhearted swat to his head. Harry's jacket has fallen halfway off his shoulder and the holes in his white tank top were visble. Louis rocks excitedly on the balls of his feet, cheeks pinkening throughout his eagerness for more of the rush flowing through him. He's had more than enough and more of the harsh drug in his veins just might push him over the edge but Harry's already snorted up the first line of the white substance and was backing up so he could take the second.

Perhaps he nearly falls when he gets up the last of it, body shaking as Harry catches him with a quiet chuckle. Maybe he couldn't handle it, but it's the last of their batch until Wednesday and he was going to make it count. He pushes the sunglasses back up his nose and hiccups once again. Like he had expected, Harry laughs like he does every single time. Ever since the first time that he had taken up his first line, the hiccuping was a side effect and the boy always seemed to laugh after he did.

Finally, when he gets himself composed, he braces his hand against the sink, fingers dipping into the sides before he stands on top of Harry's trainers and brushes their noses together. Their lips are inches away from touching, breaths' hot and mingling with one another.

"You look so cool," Louis mumbles softly.

"I know," Harry says back, then connect their lips to one another's in a rough kiss.

**越**

**_March_ ** **_5th 6:05 AM_ **

Louis likes wearing Harry's clothing. It always smelled like lemongrass and mints and sour gummy candies. He liked the way that his shirts always fell past his wrists and ever since his weight loss, even the tightest of his clothing always fit loose against his skin. In all honesty, he didn't really have too many items of his own to wear, they've all been thrown out or vomited on, then thrown out because of that.

In that moment, he was in one of Harry's coats -- a big, thick and fluffy white thing that looked like it should have belonged on the body of a dog. The sleeves are short and don't pass his wrists, but the bottom of it is as long as the pair of shorts that he had on. He knows he looks worse than usual, with his hair being blown in different directions by the wind with a frizzy undertone to it and the bags underneath his eyes plenty. His skin looked somewhat sickly in the mirror, eyes duller than normal, but Harry still looks at him like he's the most beautiful thing in the world.

He's in love with it.

Harry's in yet another leather jacket, with an atrocious flower-print button up underneath it. There's a pair of sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose that he had stolen from the corner store near his home and he walks with somewhat of a limp to his step, a small side effect of the pot he had smoked before they headed out to basically nowhere. Louis had smoked some too, but it had only been a drag that had caused him to become dizzy as it did the first time he had done it and he had stopped with a frustrated noise.

They're by an old abandoned factory just left of a Sainsbury's that most people had no clue existed. The air smells harsh and the sun was just deciding to come up. Their fingers are intertwined together and Louis occasionally walks on his tiptoes to become the same height as his boyfriend, getting pushed on the shoulder so that his feet went flat onto every couple of seconds after he had done it. Harry always told him that he liked their height difference and that he didn't want it to change, but that was usually when he was out of it so he virtually never paid any mind.

He rolls his eyes when Harry brings his hand up to bite two of his dainty fingers although quite the large smile grows on his face as he does. His mouth is warm and wet and he can practically smell the peppermint he had just eaten from where he was standing. He can't help but laugh breathily, stopping when Harry drops his fingers from in between his lips and pressing a short kiss against his cheek.

"You're really beautiful, d'you know that?" Harry says after a moment, and there it goes.

He can't help but scoff. "I'm also married to Jane Fonda," he retorts.

"Who?" Harry chuckles, then stops the two of them from walking. He places both of his hands on Louis' shoulders -- he was on his tiptoes once again. Then, in a serious voice, he says, "I don't know why you always do that. We're way past the point of you having to wonder if I'm just saying shit to get you in my bed, so why can't you just accept a compliment?"

Without even trying to stop himself, Louis gets out a sigh and wraps his arms around Harry's neck. There's a small grin on his face and the glimmer in his eyes is slightly mischievous, but the other boy just goes with it, placing his hands on Louis' slim waist. He still looks offended and irritated from his comment beforehand, but Louis just tucks a piece of his unwashed hair behind his ear and goes up back onto his tiptoes so that his mouth was right by Harry's ear.

"Thank you," he whispers with a laugh in his voice. "Now dance with me."

The only time that he's ever danced with anyone was when he was at some junior high dance with a bird who's name had begun with a vowel, and the entire time he had stepped all over her toes through the kitten heels she had on. Harry smiles brightly and holds up a finger, moving one of his hands from Louis' waist to fish his old flip phone out from his back pocket. There's a moment of silence between them before a song was playing, particularly one called  _1979_ that Louis couldn't stand for the life of him.

He groans quietly and Harry chuckles once more, snaking his palm back against Louis' hips, although this time he had noticed that his hand had made its way underneath his shirt and was pressing against the cold, bare skin. He liked it. Harry's hands were always heated at a fair enough temperature.

Luckily enough, Louis only ends up stepping on Harry's feet twice before finally getting the gist of it all with a crooked grin. His eyes were focused on the concrete ground and he wanted to burst out in laughter, stepping on the untied laces of his shoes. Harry had taken the liberty to move their left hands so that it seemed like they were doing the waltz. Louis wondered how they looked from afar if anyone had been watching: two teenage lads dancing off beat and slow to a shitty song near an abandoned factory.

He's on his tiptoes for most of the song, chin resting against Harry's shoulder. Another gust of wind blows and he's so cold, even with movements that they were in the middle of committing, just swaying back and force in the cold London air. It's mostly his legs that are freezing, and he's cursing himself for wearing those tiny shorts that Harry loves so much to see him in. He's grateful when Harry finally realises and pulls him even closer towards his body.

It was when Louis had pulled back for a moment, tilting his head up the slightest bit that Harry had leaned down and pressed a kiss to his soft mouth. He's surprised for a moment, before letting his body melt into it and kissing back with a terribly goofy smile in between them. The song ends and switches to The Arctic Monkeys and God, Harry loves that band so much that it's utterly ridiculous.

Louis is the one to break it, and they've stopped moving altogether. Harry's mouth had tasted like weed, and the sense had leaked into his own. He doesn't mind it all that bad.

"I wanna go see a film," he murmurs.

"It's barely even seven, love," Harry says in response.

The younger boy scoffed. "Last time I checked, the cinema opened at seven."

"Yeah, but no one goes at that time. It's ungodly," he snorts. Then, based off of Louis' unimpressed look, he nods. "But, sure, if you want."

That earns him an excited squeal and before he can even process it, Louis is grabbing his hand and starting towards the direction that they entered the old area of town. He wasn't even sure exactly what film that he wanted to see, if any were showing at the time that they would arrive which would have most likely been in the next fifteen minutes, but he had already gotten the idea and there was nothing that could have changed his mind.

Harry stumbled behind him for a while, maybe about half of the walk, before Louis finally slows down and they're just walking together, hands trapped in between each other's. When they got back to civilisation, they earned more than a couple of looks, mostly because of their appearance, and Louis ignored it all, copying Harry's actions from earlier and popping a couple of his fingers into his mouth as people watched, then pulled the hood of the coat over his tangled hair. 

They turn out stumbling happily into a theatre playing a film with Ben Affleck and Justin Timberlake. Surprisingly enough, there's more than a couple of people, although a lot of them were in the back and there's one couple who look like they're in the middle of a very heated blowjob. They sit a couple of seats in front of them, and Louis swats at Harry's shoulder when he hears the sound of sucking behind them.

And, no, Louis does not end up enjoying the film. It's rather boring, and he sits there the entire time with the popcorn bucket that they had bought to share in his lap, poking his fingers around it to find the smallest pieces and pop them into his mouth. Luckily enough, the sucking noises had stopped and the only sounds were just the noises of the film on the screen. Harry's staring at the screen so intensely that it's scary. It has been like this for more than an hour and a half.

After a moment, Louis raises the popcorn towards Harry. "Want some?" he asks quietly.

"Shush," Harry retorts, raising one skinny finger to his lips.

Louis narrows his eyes and sort of throws the popcorn in his direction. The only reaction that he gets is Harry smacking the bucket out of his hands and he has to dive down to grab it before it collapses onto the ground. When he moves back up, he glares at Harry, hoping that he'd notice and apologise. He doesn't, just keeps watching the large screen in front of him.

It's about ten minutes that Louis decides to fuck with his boyfriend again, placing the popcorn down onto the seat next to him and reaching over to pull down the sunglasses he had been previously wearing that had been pushed up into his hair since they were inside and pushig them back down onto his nose. Harry gives him an incredulous look before pushing the glasses back up and looking back towards the screen. Louis just smacks him in his arm, then goes back to picking through the popcorn and finding the rare good pieces that weren't covered in butter.

Nothing happens between them for a while and the film is almost over when Louis feels a hand on the inside of his thigh. He's just positive that Harry's going to try and start something in the middle of a theatre, but when he looks over, he's holding up a little baggie that he was all too familiar with. He's not sure if he had gotten bored and just wanted a hit, but he wasn't going to waste precious time and ask.

"C'mon, then," Louis laughs and Harry opens the baggie. 

He's never quite comfortable with taking it by mouth, but doesn't protest when Harry dips his pointer finger in the mess that was in the bag before holding it up to his lips. Harry turns around to check behind them, letting a little sigh of relief out when he sees everyone focusing on the ending that they had been anticipating. Louis parts his lips just a little and then Harry's pressing the tip of his finger into his mouth. He doesn't even try to hold back the satisfied whine that slips out when Harry had taken his finger out and the coke immediately began numbing his entire mouth.

He doesn't notice when Harry does the same to himself, just leans back into his chair and let the high settle down into his veins. His gums had gone completely numb and next to him, Harry was keeping his composure better than he had been at that very moment. He enjoys the rest of the film quite well, spending the rest of the thirty minutes with his eyes clamped shut and his legs crossed rather tightly. Harry keeps squirming in his chair and as soon as the last line plays out and the credits come up, he shoots out of the seat and grabs Louis by his dainty little wrist, dragging him towards the double doors.

Louis keeps fiddling with the tattoo choker around his neck as he's taken into the dirty cinema bathrooms, pressed up against the door that Harry had quickly locked after they had gotten inside. His hands fall down to his sides and he's already breathing heavily as his boyfriend stares at him with those beautiful, hungry eyes that he's fallen in love with. He let's out a breathy little giggle, letting his bottom lip make its way into his warm mouth. It seems as if all their sexual escapades happens in public toilets.

"This is the second time we've fucked in a loo," laughs Louis as his thin body is lifted up off of the ground, legs wrapping around Harry's tiny waist. "Look at what drugs have done to us. It's completely screwed us all to Hell."

"God, I know, right?" Harry says back

And if they earn themselves more than a couple of looks even they leave the bathrooms about thirty minutes afterwards because of loud mewls and such, stumbling and laughing with one another, it doesn't really matter. It never really matters.

**越**

**_March 7th, 3:53 AM_   
**

"I died once," says Louis suddenly.

They're sitting in the middle of their unmade bed in the middle of Harry's shack-like home. Louis had been playing with the baggie between his fingers for the last hour and a half and Harry had just emerged from the shower, a frown on his face when he realised that it wasn't going to work. The smaller boy is pushed towards the edge of the mattress, legs pulled up to his chest and fingers playing with the laces of his white trainers.

He's angry, undeniably so, because of what happened earlier. He had did everything to come on to Harry -- dressing in a lilac off-the-shoulder shirt that couldn't past his navel, white high-waisted shorts that made the gap in between his legs seem far more substantial than it actually was and those white polka-dotted socks with the frilly edges that he knew Harry loved. It's been two days since their last escapade and while that was normal in regular relationships, Louis hadn't been used to it at all. His eyes had watered when Harry had pushed him off of his lap after he had come back home from where ever he had been.

Louis is still dressed in his lewd outfit, a frown on his lips as he just sat there with this emotionless look on his face. And, God, it's stupid and he's being fucking dramatic, but he can't help but wonder if the cocaine had finally gotten to his looks and affected the idea of everlasting beauty that Harry was sure he just shone with. His fingers dip into the edges of the bag and he really doesn't feel like getting up to take it. The only reason that he's still holding it was because he was sure that he was going to go crazy if it wasn't near him, especially since he wasn't going to take it.

He was referring to a time in his life when he had hit a all time low, something that was worse then he was now. It had happened in the middle of this terrible party in the pits of London, right after he had given this dealer an especially sloppy blowie in exchange for new clothes. He had gotten his hands on heroin and what had happened was that he inserted just a little bit too much of it into his body and ended up passing out in the middle of the living room. People panicked and a lot of people fleed because of their warrants or the fact that they were carrying some type of drug. He had died, was dead for a full twenty minutes before the ambulances were called and someone was finally able to revive him. He was on bed rest for an entire month before being let out of the hospital.

"Okay," Harry retorts slowly. "Did you see God?"

He's never thought about that. "No. It was just a lot of emptiness. That was the main reason I started using again," Louis says, hiccuping.

"Aren't you scared of death, then?"

He's thinking about not telling him, to just lie and pretend like he wasn't scared of death like the preverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark. But, suddenly, everything just piles onto him like a ton of bricks and he breaks down right in the middle of the bed, beginning to sob loudly into his folded arms. Harry tilts his head and looks at him. He looks so small.

" _Yes_ ," he gets out through a harsh noise. "And I should be taking better care of myself instead of just searching for another way to kill myself because of it, but I  _can't,_ Hazza. I've stopped trying because I know one day I'm just gonna die again, unloved and used, and there's gonna be no one there to call the ambulances and save me. Fuck, Hazza, I'm screwed. I haven't even done anything with my life and I'm utterly  _screwed."_

His sounds are coming out all choppy and ugly and he's sure Harry's just abandoned him because he didn't know what to do until there's arms wrapping around his skinny body and his frame is being pulled closer into the other boy's embrace. He let's his arms fall from around his legs and he's just burying his face into Harry's chest, crying his little heart out like he hadn't done in such a long time.

After a while of sniffling and quiet sobs into Harry's skin, there's arms holding him back and his blotchy face and reddened nose is revealed. Harry's got that look on his face; that look that tells him that he thinks he's most most amazing creature to ever walk the floors of the planet Earth and he can't help but smile as the other lad does too. A piece off his hair falls into his glossy eyes and he sniffles once more, reaching a small hand up to wipe at them. It feels good to finally let everything out.

He's sure he's going to get some lecture about how much Harry loved him and how he shouldn't feel insecure just because he didn't want to fuck that night, but he only tucks the piece of his tresses behind his ear and places a large hand on his face.

"You're not gonna die unloved or used. We're gonna do something, okay, lovey? It's gonna be hard, but I promise you that you won't die unloved or used or not having done anything with your life because we're gonna be rich and I'm gonna fucking spoil you, just like you wanted to do. Remember that, beautiful?" Harry coos and Louis nods. His actions were no less than child-like.

Then he stands up from the mattress, releasing Louis from his grasp. Louis looks up at him with wide eyes, bottom lip trapped between his teeth like it always ended up. A gust of wind comes in through the open window across from him and he shivers. Harry walks over to the closet in the back of the room, disappearing for a couple of seconds and coming back out in one of those flower-printed cover ups that he loved to wear. Louis stares.

"Get up, lovey. We gotta start somewhere," he's saying, and as much as Louis didn't want to go out in public looking like he did in that moment, he stands up on shaky legs.

And maybe that's one of the things he loves about Harry. It's the middle of the night and they're already getting up to start out at the world, for a reason that the two of them knew. Harry's walking over to him, wrapping an old flannel that he owned around his bare shoulders with a smile. Louis smiles back, and he's being led out of the doorway of the room seconds later.

The thought about death had completely left his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> [Up next: actually descriptive smut, the entire scene that the video had been based off of and all led up to, a shit-ton of fluff and drugs]


End file.
